


Things, patterns, puzzles and family.

by nothing_much



Series: Things, patterns, puzzles and family stuff. [1]
Category: Teenwolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Blink and you'll miss it, Don't know about canon, M/M, Mentioned Allison Argent, Mentioned Lydia Martin, Nogitsune, Pack, Pack Building, mentioned Ethan and Aiden, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_much/pseuds/nothing_much
Summary: How do you find yourself, and feel  when you've been possessed by a thousand year old fox spirit? Who are you, and who are your friends. When do you quit on friendship, and how do you go on?
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Things, patterns, puzzles and family stuff. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2078883
Comments: 4
Kudos: 190





	Things, patterns, puzzles and family.

It was like he had some kind off earmuffs. All the sounds were muffled and felt wrong. He didn’t know what was truth or what was fake, by now he didn’t even know what was up or down. He spent his time trying to figure out what was going on. Kind of fact checking.

He was somehow locked in his head. And every time he’d thought things were ok again, his finger count didn’t add up. He knew he wasn’t alone, and he sometimes could watch his body doing things, horrible things that he didn’t want to be part of. Sometimes he was aware of being with his friends, but still somehow a captive in his own body, and head. 

Sometimes the entity that was using his body taunted him. Let him watch as it lied, tortured and spread chaos around it. He managed to get clues out. But he didn’t really count on people finding the clues, and figure out what was going on. He didn’t thing he would believe it himself.

Sometimes he was aware that things were going on around him, and he could watch. And sometimes he was aware that he could think, for himself and alone. He thought about different things. About discussing with Peter about being a captive in your own body. The difference between being held prisoner in your own body, by yourself, like Peter had been, tortured by his own experiences and nightmares. Or having company, like he had himself. The company of someone or something as vile as what he was sharing his body with.

Or Derek, he could discuss and compare his knowledge with about seeing your own body doing things you, yourself wasn’t ok with. About your body being used and abused by someone else. Even Jackson, some lucid moments he thought about the former Kanima. How it felt to wake up in places you didn’t know how you got to. And well, if he ever was free again. How it felt when someone used you to kill. That he could discuss with both Jackson and Derek. 

Not that he really wanted to. But it felt somehow comforting that there were people out there who would understand him, without him having to explain anything. If he really thought about it, even Alison and Lydia would understand to some extent. 

It made him fell less alone. Even if it was just in his own head. He had something to fight for, and he knew, not if, but when, he got himself out of this. He would have pack there to help him recover. 

Chaos ensured. Of course, he was possessed by a chaos demon, wasn’t he? A thousand-year-old fox spirit. A Nogitsune. But he somehow managed to outsmart it. To free himself and his pack had overthrown it. Not without cost. It had lost them Alison, and Aiden. It had thrown doubt in where there had been trust. It had almost broken Stiles, and his fight wasn’t over. He was left alone to fight it though. 

Well almost alone. In dire times, you’ll know who your friends are. His didn’t include Scott, his brother. It didn’t include many of those he thought would be there for him, whom he’d been there for. 

His dad proved himself though. He may have lost it when Stiles mother died, and he may not have been a nominee for the father of the year awards during the years following. But in this he proved himself. He was there to help Stiles through his nightmares, counting fingers day and night. He saw to it that Stiles felt secure and safe at home. He made a grieving Chris teach him how to make Mountain Ash work. He saw to it that Stiles was never alone at home, even if it was one of the few deputies left that Stiles knew or one of the recently returned Hales, or Kira, whom Stiles seemed to trust. Even Chris showed up once or twice before he and Isaak and left for France. 

Other people proved themselves in other ways. Scott didn’t offer any help, or show his face anywhere close to the Stilinski house. Alison had died in his arms, she had been his first love, and he didn’t care about anything else. Not that she’d been a friend to everyone else in the pack. Not the guilt Stiles was bound to feel. Not Isaak who was the one in a relationship with her as she died. Not even Chris’ feelings were as important as his own. Chris who’d lost not only his father and sister, in so many ways, but his wife, and now his beloved daughter. No one suffered like Scott suffered. And he made sure that everyone knew who was to blame.

Lydia’s grief was tangible, more relatable for the ones left close to her. She’d not only seen, but also felt the loss of her best friend. She didn’t blame anyone, but she felt like she was to blame, she should have known. She should have seen. She was intelligent enough though, she checked herself into a psych ward, as far from Eichen House in every way there was, they even served chilled drinks by the pool. She started to see a therapist, she had an open line with the pack, and slowly found her footings again.

Grief is different for everyone; it can either be very egotistical like it proved to be for Scott, or grief bind people together. Stiles never got to discuss the topics he’d thought of stuck inside his own head, with the Nogitsune.

Stiles felt like he was a piece of a puzzle he had do rebuild. It took months for Stiles to reach some kind of normal again. Or at least some sense of normalcy. Lydia was back. Kira had somehow ended up dating Scott. He had the Hales in his corner, and someone had managed to get everyone to use the front door when they wanted to meet him. Stiles counted that as the greatest achievement to come out of the bad situation that was. 

It was what it was. Of course things wouldn’t last, years past, people came and left, and things happened in no particular order they met more than just Wendigos, Chimeras, Dread Doctors, and not to forget the Wild Hunt. Stiles had no clue how he survived it all. And he had no clue when people started taking him for granted.

There was still pieces of his puzzle missing.

*

Being taken for granted was every bit as bad as it sounded like. Nothing he did was appreciated. The people around him didn’t even ask him for things anymore, they just told him. What had been a polite or even rhetorical question was now somebody telling him to do something, or just plain ordering him around. They all did it, no exceptions.

“Stay here”  
“Find out what you can about what could be haunting the preserve”  
“Get over it”  
“Pack meeting tonight, be there”  
“Bring food”

Leaving him to clean up, do the dishes and see to it that everyone was informed about the latest monster of the week. And sometimes show up to save their asses, without any thank you-s. They didn’t even ask him how he was. Nobody cared that he was bone tired. That he too, needed a night off sometimes, or even a week off, or a month. Their business was his. 

It was getting old. And it was getting to a point where he couldn’t see himself doing anything but surviving. He wanted to live. He needed to live. There was a difference there. Living and surviving. 

Looking for missing pieces of his life puzzle. 

Being who he was, he’d already started with his planning. He’d been to the school counsellor and she’d helped him with a plan on how to finish high school and also helped him to apply to early admittance for college. He’d gotten a couple of acceptance letters. One with full scholarship, which he’d decided to accept. 

He’d had some help from Danny, but ultimately changed his name with the right authorities himself. And made himself a new identity, he had already moved his credits to it, which made his scholarship made out in the right name. Everything about his fake persona would activate as soon as he left town. He’d moved all his money and all his other accounts and his subscriptions and phone plan would end when he left town. A new ID and drivers licence was in an envelope in his car, waiting. His old ones, would be disposed of as soon as possible. 

He had even taken the precautions to make it seem like a Stiles Stilinski would seem to attend the UCLA, majoring in criminology, and live in a dorm there, while he himself, now Mitchell Styles would attend Columbia University, with a major in business and minor in mythology and folklore, he’d even got a dorm ready on campus. All his accounts on social media telling that story.

He was ready, he’d attend the pack meeting this evening, and then leave. He’d leave Roscoe at the house, and he’d booked a ticket for the night train to New York, a bus for the train leaving Beacon Hills at 11 PM. Bags packed, computer emptied, and phone left behind. He had a new computer and a new burner phone both bought from one of the contacts he’d made during the last chaotic years. He’d own nothing with a GPS, and everything would be hooked up to his new persona’s VPN. 

He’d even managed to find a spell to prevent someone finding him with magic. That ruled out Deaton. And he didn’t think that Danny would try too hard to find him, because Danny knew that if he disappeared like this. He’d have his reasons. Danny was smarter than all the others put together.

It wasn’t even that he thought that anyone would miss him. Not him personally anyway. They’d miss his research, him cleaning up their mess in more ways than one. He’d washed his hands with all of them a long time ago. They’d all preferred the Scott kind of Kool Aid.

He didn’t really say good bye to anyone. He just left the pack meeting, drove home. Took his stuff and walked to the corner of the street where there was an Uber waiting to take him to the bus station.

*

Stiles Stilinski left Beacon hills on a Friday night. It was early Tuesday morning when Mitchell Styles arrived in New York three days later. 

*

Mitchell Styles had gotten rid of all of his old identifying papers and stuff on his ride across America. Nothing connecting him to anything close to California was even remotely connected to Stiles. And he could still go by his name, and pretend like Boyd he wanted to be called his surname. 

It hurt to think about Boyd. He and Erica were both missing pieces in his puzzle. He hoped that this, running away? Leaving? Starting anew? Whatever it was, was going to piece together over some of the missing pieces of his puzzle.

He stayed at the train station for a couple of hours to have breakfast at a café and look at people. He had decided to take a bus to campus, well he’d have to change busses, but still. Bus it was, and he had an hour and a half to kill at the station when breakfast was done. 

When he got to campus he went to the registrar, registered himself and got on his way to his dorm. He cleared everything and moved into a room he’d share with another student. Who’d arrive during the week. It felt good to start off by himself, then no one would notice his lack of things. He hadn’t really brought more than change of clothes for a couple of days, thinking he’d buy new stuff. He also needed to get school stuff, and some things for his room. More toiletries and some snacks. 

He decided to check out the closest area and go for snacks, and maybe see if there where somewhere to apply for a part time job if he saw any. 

*

Three days later he’d not only bought all his stuff. He had met his new, very nice so far, roommate Henry. Who didn’t in anyway suspect that his new roommate was a runaway. He’d also managed to get a part time job, in a café close to campus, full scholarship and all, he needed something to do, somewhere to meet people and just get out of the house. And extra money wasn’t unwelcome.

Classes would begin in a couple of days. He’d bought all his literature. His roommate would be in one of his business classes, that felt good. Henry seemed like a good person, who wouldn’t get totally wrapped up in frat life or partying. Well, not more than Stiles himself would, or Styles as he was called now. It wasn’t a big change, but still he felt somewhat weird it was the same but different. A new piece.

*

Three weeks into the semester, he had a new really good friend in Henry. They studied together, and made friends together, partied together. They worked close to each other. Both of them made other friends too, so they didn’t depend completely on each other. University, and university life was working for him. His new friends called him Mitch, close enough to his old nickname Mischief, or Styles. 

He’d left Beacon Hills behind him, and the only “news” he’d had from his hometown, was online news, like the Beacon Hills Herald, carefully connected through his VPN, and it gave him nothing, no feelings of home sickness, which he had expected. There were no mentions of anyone he knew, no hints of monsters, and he felt nothing. He didn’t read that paper more than a couple of times before he stopped completely.

He’d once peaked into his old mail account, which he hadn’t closed, due to the imagined Stiles Stilinski attending UCLA. He had about 152 unread mails, most of them from the pack, but some from his dad, it looked like he was keeping up appearance. His dad knew he wasn’t at UCLA, he had an address to a mail account, that Stiles only logged onto when he had his VPN on, and he’d made it with only his dad in mind. He hadn’t told his dad anything that could give his whereabouts away, nothing about what he was doing, no names, and no way to contact him. He’d just told him he’d changed the address his mail, and given him the number to a burner phone, on which they spoke weekly.

He was somehow in a different puzzle. 

The pack with Scott in the front had accused him of being paranoid, and well he was, he’d never argued that. He knew he was forever looking over his shoulder, looking at things and persons as threats, that’s what kept him alive so far. That was part of the magic he’d learned. He usually got a gut feeling about anything out of the ordinary, or weird and he trusted that feeling. He had a funny feeling when he left for work in the early afternoon. Something was going to happen. And as paranoid as he was, he brought his can of pepper spray, his own mix with wolfsbane in it. An extra annoyance for people, and lethal for most were-creatures if it got into the bloodstream through eyes, nose, mouth or blood. 

When he arrived at the café he started to clear the tables, and speaking with the costumers. He said hi to his co-worker, the girl behind the counter. And made his way to his apron. Cleaning up behind the counter, starting his shift with a coffee for himself, asking his co-worker, Eva, how she was holding up, and what he needed to do, while sipping the warm beverage.

Half an hour into his shift things started to get busy. Eva was managing the counter, and he was making beverages. He didn’t have time to read the names on the cups, as he made the coffee. If he had, maybe he would have been more prepared when reading out the name ‘Peter’ aloud, and checking the cup in his other hand, ‘Derek’. 

It was a total surprise for all of them. Stiles just standing there, frozen with a cup in each hand, staring at the werewolves, on the other side of the counter, who, was standing as still as he did. The picture of shock, mouths open, and eyebrows raised. Not even making one motion to grab their coffee. The coffee that was now slipping, slowly out of Stiles lax hands. 

“Styles?” Eva asked, “is something wrong?”

“Stiles?” Derek asked after a long awkward silence. Peter seemed to have lost his ability to talk. Stiles felt something settle in his gut. 

“Derek” he said, “Peter” he nodded at them both. Peter didn’t unfreeze until Derek took his coffee from Stiles and handed it to his uncle. And he was still looking at Stiles as if he’d seen a ghost. Derek, had somehow collected himself enough to, well take the beverages and try to hand his uncle his cup. 

Derek pulled his uncle towards a table and they sat down. Peter staring at Stiles. Didn’t take his eyes of him. Derek also looking at him with curious eyes. They sat in silence. Stiles felt somewhat self-conscious. 

The Hales hadn’t been in Beacon Hills when he left, they had been long gone. Derek gone to live with Cora in South America, again, and Peter had been well still living in Beacon Hills, but not in contact with the pack. Him and Stiles had at least spoken when they met. And Stiles could contact him when he needed help with research. He didn’t do it very often, but now and again he had. Peter ignored the other pack members. And well the way they all had treated him. Stiles wasn’t surprised. 

Well at least he wasn’t surprised by that. What he was surprised by, was the presence of the two werewolves. In ‘his’ place. He wondered what they were doing here, and how they found him. Still the way they looked at him, like they hadn’t expected him. At all. They had expected to meet him as much as he expected to meet them. 

Keeping busy behind the counter until they left half an hour later. Peter not taking his eyes of Stiles for the duration of time. In the end Derek had almost pulled him out, and when Stiles went to clear the table, Peters cup of coffee was still untouched, or rather not even taken a sip from. Derek’s was empty though.

He made his shift without any other distractions. And he tried not to dwell on things. Ignoring problems until they gone away used to be his thing. He was sure that would be the way to go, in this case too. So he filled the rest of the day talking about nonsense, discussing school, clearing tables and making coffee. 

The moment he stepped out of the door someone grabbed his shoulder. He wasn’t at least surprised to find Derek behind him, he’d figured that at least one of them would be there. He wondered if they’d already told Scott and his father that they’d found him. He wondered if anyone was on their way to get him, or meet him or well on their way.

“Where are we going” he asked Derek, since he’d taken hold of Stiles arm, and led him forward. Stiles wasn’t resisting. So they walked swiftly down the street. Stiles was sure they were making their way somewhere. He only hoped that there wasn’t anyone he didn’t want to meet wherever they were going.

Derek led him to a small diner not far from his dorm. He led them to a corner booth, and asked Stiles to sit down. They sat on each side of the table and Stiles looked apprehensive at the other man. He didn’t really know what to expect. He didn’t expect Derek’s first question though. It was quite simple.

“How are things back in Beacon Hills?” Stiles looked at him in silence. Derek looked like he meant what he asked. 

“I left” was all he said. Derek looked like he was expecting more. But Stiles didn’t want to get into detail. When nothing more came, an awkward silence fell over the table. It lasted until the server came up to take their order. Stiles was quite hungry and ordered an iced tea, a burger and some fries. He was quite miserable about the curly fries in town, and had even stopped ordering it. Derek ordered the same. When the server left, Stiles started with his own line of questioning.

“What are you doing here? When did you come back?” He asked, and continued with “Why am I here? What are you going to do now? Who are you going to tell?” He stopped to give Derek a chance to answer. And he did.

“We were just surprised to see you, Stiles” he started. “I was wondering how things were with your dad and your pack back in Beacon Hills. Peter was somewhat shocked to see you, he never thought you’d leave your dad and go to university, or anything. He thought he’d never see you again after he left a couple of months ago” Derek was silent for a moment, and then spoke again “Scott made him leave”. 

He sighed and looked at Stiles again. “We vowed to never go back there, I thought I’d never see you again. You obviously left Beacon Hills, how are things there?”

Stiles squirmed a little in his seat. Welcoming the server and their Ice tea. Taking a sip before he looked at Derek to answer. 

“I left” He left it at that again, “Now you, what are you doing here? Why here?” he asked again.

“I live here, we have a house here, a pack house. Quite close. Didn’t you know? I’m sure Peter said he left a message for you with the pack when he left” Derek told him. Stiles looked at him, feeling confused. 

“I didn’t get any messages, maybe it was after I left?” he asked. “When I left no one knew where you were” he said. Now it was Derek’s turn to look confused. He shook his head. 

“Stiles, I’ve been in contact with Scott since I left. Not that much, but to keep up with what’s going on and make sure he knows to find me if Beacon Hills need me” Derek told him, speaking slow, like Stiles was a toddler. And yes, another reason to leave Beacon Hills. 

“I didn’t know” Stiles stated. They were quiet until the food arrived. 

“I left Beacon Hills because I didn’t have anything or anyone left, I have some contact with my dad, only via E-mail, and a burner phone. I don’t ask about Beacon Hills, and I don’t tell him where I am. I don’t answer any questions”. Stiles told Derek who frowned. “Have you spoken to Scott lately?” he asked. 

“A couple of weeks ago, he didn’t say anything about you” Derek answered. “So what are you doing here, except working in that café?” he continued.

“School” Stiles told him, “I go to school here, majoring in business, minors in folklore and mythology. I live in a dorm here. And please Derek, don’t tell anyone. Please. And if you could ask Peter to do the same?” He practically begged. He ended with an extra “please”. 

Derek looked at him. 

“There isn’t a Stiles Stilinski admitted to Columbia, no Stilinski at all” Derek told him. “I checked today. Or rather I had someone do it for me. So, again, what are you doing here?” He asked rather carefully. As if not to provoke Stiles, or annoy him. 

Stiles looked at him, frowned and focused on the most important thing. 

“Are you going to tell anyone?” he asked.

Now it was Derek’s turn to frown, again. He looked both annoyed and curious at the same time, it was a weird look on his face. 

“The only ones I’m going to tell is Peter and maybe some of the pack, and it’s only me who has contact with anyone in Beacon Hills, and I’m not going to tell Scott, unless you ask med to” Derek promised. 

Stiles looked at him for a moment while he finished his hamburger. He considered his options, and the fact that he actually trusted Derek. He reached out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Mitchell Styles, people call me Styles.” Derek shook his hand and smiled. 

“Derek Hale, alpha of the New York Hale pack” he said. 

Another piece slid into place.

They spoke for a while, and as Derek asked questions, Stiles answered them. He told Derek about how things had been during the last months in Beacon Hills, and how he’d prepared himself, planned, and got away from everyone, without raising suspicion. How Stiles Stilinski attended UCLA. He told him about his dorm, his new friend Henry, and his classes. In return Derek told him about his life, about how he and Peter had decided to start anew in New York, together they’d started a pack. Derek told him about his visits with Cora in South America. 

Before they knew it, two hours had passed, and Stiles started to yawn. He had had early classes in the morning, and he’d have early classes tomorrow too. Stiles started to say good bye and got up. Derek stood up too, he looked lost. Stiles felt a little bad, looking lost was Scott’s thing, he had the whole lost puppy look down to a T. Derek, well lost didn’t suit him at all. Stiles felt bad. When Derek asked for his number, to keep in contact, Stiles couldn’t deny him. They changed numbers, and Stiles went home to get some sleep.

Henry was on his bed, reading when Stiles made it home. He gave Stiles one look, and then he put his book away.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked and looked at Stiles who shrugged. 

“Thank you man” he told his friend. “I think I’m a bit overwhelmed by some information I got today, from an old friend. I need to try to comprehend what happened.” He took his stuff and went to take a shower before he went to bed.

He slept restless, nightmares riding him through the night. When he woke up he felt like he had during the months after the Nogitsune. Even the months after Gerard. He gave up on sleep in the early hours of the morning, woke up early and made himself a cup of coffee, before he opened his computer and continued on his paper on Greek mythology. 

As Henry woke up, he’d written most of it. And taken another shower, got dressed, and was ready to leave for class.

He wasn’t prepared to be accompanied by Peter to class though. But there he was, waiting for him outside his door. 

They walked in silence. Stiles didn’t really know what to say, and he was late for class. It seemed that Peter was content just walking beside him. And he enjoyed the company. Somehow the silence wasn’t awkward. Usually he filled any silence with words, just to get out of the awkwardness. 

Peter left him without a word outside of his class. He hurried in and tried not to think about anything but the lecture about the introductions to rules and regulations with accounting. It was usually quite difficult to concentrate but today, he was even more distracted. Thankfully he didn’t do this to become an accountant.

Peter was nowhere to be found when class was done, Stiles tried not to think about that either. Well, until when he sat down at the diner, he was joined by not only Isaak, but Chris. He hadn’t seen them since they left after the Nogitsune. And he’d thought they were still in France. 

“So, you’re here too” he asked no one in particular. 

“Isaak needed pack” Chris stated at the same time Isaak spoke. “Chris needed family”. Stiles looked at both of them. 

“So, pack, family, you’re with Derek?” he said, to which they both nodded. Stiles lifted one of his eyebrows, looked down at his food, and nodded. “Sounds about right” he said. “You studying” he asked Isaak, it seemed like a neutral ground to silence the awkwardness.

Isaak smiled at him, and nodded. “I’m doing my major in fashion” he stated proudly. “Me and Jackson” he looked around and whispered, like it was a secret. Stiles smiled and nodded. 

“So pack” Stiles felt quite safe to ask, “You two, Jackson, Derek and Peter?” 

Isaak and Chris nodded, “and you know, Lydia” Chris added. “Cora is still in South America, and Malia in Beacon Hills, but there is Hannah, Eric, Dan and Will, who you don’t know. Well yet. I’m sure you will”. 

Stiles finished his meal and started to excuse himself, as he needed to go to class. Chris took his wrist.

“Stiles, you know I don’t blame you?” he said. When Stiles nodded carefully he added. “And just fair warning. Hannah is vicious if you go after her snacks” Which made Stiles laugh out in surprise. He felt good as he left the diner and waved to his two former pack-mates. 

He sat through two more classes before the day was over. He wasn’t overly surprised to see Jackson outside of the building, joining him on the way home. 

“So, Jackson, let’s get this over with. How have you been? England didn’t like you? Ethan? Pack night? Am I invited? When and where?” 

Jackson let out a laugh, and just answered the two last questions, “Yes you’re invited. We expect you Friday at 7. Dinner’s on us. Give me your phone” Stiles reached for his burner phone and gave it over.

“I’ll text you the address” was the only other thing Jackson said before he gave the phone back, and left. Stiles wasn’t even home before there was a ping, followed by a few more pings from his phone.

Jackson had sent an address, the others just their names. Isaak, Chris, Peter, Derek, and surprisingly Hannah and Dan too. 

Stiles just checked in and changed clothes before he left for a couple of hours at the café. There was an unknown person following him. He sent a photo to Derek with text “one of yours” and almost immediately got a positive answer. One worded, not more than he expected from Derek. “Dan”. 

Nice to have a face with the name. 

He got used to being watched or accompanied across campus during the week. Before the first pack meeting and his paranoia set aside, he started to feel safer. 

His first pack meeting with Derek’s pack, the New York Hale pack, was kind of a success. He arrived in the middle of a discussion between Hannah, Jackson and a werewolf he’d never seen, turned out to be Eric. The only reason Stiles immediately knew he was a werewolf was the sideburns, lack of eyebrows and pointy ears. Well that and the fact that the guy was growling when he arrived. He raised an eyebrow towards Derek and Peter who was both standing in the side-lines. They both shrugged.

He turned his attention towards the discussion and walked up to Jacksons side.

“He may be a douche-canoe, but he’s right” he stated at the two others, who turned their attention towards him. Hannah used what he’d up ‘til now only recognised as the ‘Hale eyebrows of death’ on him. And Eric looked ready to rip out his throat. 

“Don’t look at me that way. The first Star wars movie was released in 1977 not 1997, it’s not my fault you are an ignorant bunch” he told the two werewolves, before he turned to Jackson “And you only know it, because I told you” he said to the former Kanima, who shrugged and gave him a smirk. 

“Yes, Stiles, but I know. Because I listened when you spoke” and that was that. Jackson was officially in Stiles good books. 

“So, Pack meeting. The New York Hale pack? What does it include?” he asked and looked around expectantly.

There were four people he didn’t know, yet, in the room. Jackson moved him forward, and introduced him to Hannah and Eric, both werewolves, Dan a were-coyote and Will. 

When Stiles asked about the absence of introduction supe or not, around Will, the others smirked. “You find out” they said, and Will himself smirked. Stiles looked at all of them, somewhat curious, before he looked back at Will. 

“You know I’ll find out?” he asked them. They all smiled at him. 

“We hope so” Derek told him. Stiles narrowed his eyes, and looked at Will. 

“Challenge accepted” he told them. Will only smiled at him serenely. 

*

Stiles was walking back from yet another pack night. He felt content, and he felt safe. Safer than he’d felt in months even years. He’d pledged his alliance with them, and joined the pack a month earlier. And tonight he’d told them all what he’d found out about Will and what kind of supe he thought he was. 

He’d conducted his investigation over the last three months he’d been in contact with them. Finally finding something reasonable that fit. The man being elusive enough. When he’d presented his case, and what he thought the man had smiled at him and agreed. There were lots of money changing hands and both Peter, Derek, Chris, Isaak and Jackson all winning money on him figuring it out. Only Hannah winning on what kind of supe. Who would have guessed and figured out that a Greek god. Pan, was among them except for Stiles? 

As Stiles walked home during the night some months later, he considered his life. He called his dad as he was walking. Over the last couple of weeks, as he found himself in a new pack, with all the right people, he also found his way back to his dad. They’d been speaking more and more candidly, and he’d told his father about where he was and about his new pack. About his feelings towards Peter and how he found common ground with Isaak and Derek. 

He finally got to discuss being captive in your own mind and doing things you don’t want, in a safe environment with Derek, Jackson and Peter. It brought them a lot closer each other. 

He got to speak about not being in control with Jackson, Derek and Hannah, who had some similar experiences to Derek’s with Kate. Nothing more needed to be said.

He spoke to Isaak and Chris about the loss of family in general, and Alison who’d been a close friend, in particular. They missed her as a daughter, girlfriend and friend. As Chris and Isaak had done before, they helped Stiles to find closure. They helped him and spoke with Jackson who was still with Ethan, even though he studied at a university in another country, and he helped Stiles to find peace with Aiden. 

Peter and Stiles was slowly finding the way to each other. Stiles learning about how his so called best friend had bullied Peter. Thinking he did the right thing. Stiles realised that his former friend and brother had gone from being a True Alpha because of the truth and right in his actions, to being a True Alpha, believing what he thought was the truth and right. 

Knowing his friend believed in only black and white, right and wrong and nothing in between, it wasn’t difficult to understand what had happened. Especially when Peter was concerned.

Trust was something earned. It took a lot of Stiles time to earn back Peter’s trust. To really earn trust from the pack, which was why he wasn’t invited to the pack straightaway. He respected them even more for that. Not until Peter told Derek he trusted Stiles, he was invited. 

They took it slow from there on.

Stiles never get back what he’d lost with Werewolves, hunters, Gerard, with the Nogitsune, the Wild hunt, Theo, the Dread Doctors or Scott. No one ever does get the opportunity to go back, to be innocent. Innocence lost is never found again.

He tried to get by with what he had, living, surviving. 

In the end he left one puzzle, one pack, with too many pieces missing. And he started again within another using the pieces he had. There were still pieces missing, never to be found again. His mum, Erica, Boyd, Alison. But they were enough to cover the sky, and the background. He had the pattern, and the ground pieces, and that’s all you need to live. A pattern and roots, a reason, and family.


End file.
